‘He hasn’t sold any yet. Rheims. He had tickets for Rheims in his hand. He’s been planning a little jaunt in that direction to sell a few stones and congratulate himself for driving me crazy. He leaves on Friday – back on the Sunday-evening train. He was going to give me till then to finish the polishing, but these last three days he’s been at my back every minute chivvying me along.’
‘Any more, Henri?’
Ah, fuck him. ‘Five of the smaller stones I put in a bracelet for him. Bit of a rush job, but they’re easier to smuggle about that way than loose. He wanted the others set too, but I told him he’d had all the work from me I could stomach. Thought he was going to blow, but in the end he just smiled and wandered off like a little king. The sod.’
Sparkles nodded. ‘Very well. I must go back to dinner. Boys, clean him up and get him out of here. Don’t leave town, Monsieur Bouchard, will you?’
He shrugged as well as his bonds would let him. ‘Where would I go?’
She looked into the shadows behind her. ‘Come on, my dear.’ A figure stood up from the darkness. Another woman, tall and shapely but dressed a little plain and pale in the face. Sparkles took her arm. They began to walk towards the cellar stairs. Sparkles looked over her shoulder. ‘Yvette?’
The girl bent down to kiss his forehead. ‘Sorry, Henri. You’re not a bad old devil.’ He looked at his boots and managed another shrug. The place where she’d kissed him glowed in the darkness she left behind.
‘Well done, Yvette,’ the Countess said. Yvette almost thanked her but bit her tongue. ‘So, Miss Heighton, you are vindicated. I believe you, but the law will take us no further. Still, again I thank you for bringing this matter to our attention and I promise it will not be forgotten. You look a little tired still. Go home and rest, honey. I must be getting back to dinner. Arthur will see you out.’
‘But what next, Countess?’ Yvette said.
‘Steps will be taken, dear.’
‘What steps?’
‘Oh, you’ll be informed. Now take that girl home before she falls over.’
‘Are they here?’ Maud said. Her voice sounded heavy and thick. Yvette tightened her grip on Maud’s arm and the Countess glanced behind her as if checking that Arthur was still standing at her shoulder.
‘They are here,’ she said.
Maud took half a step forward and Yvette saw such a look of animal rage on her face that she was afraid. The Countess did not move but the butler stepped closer to her. Yvette kept Maud pinned to her side.
‘Maud, you cannot,’ she whispered frantically into her ear. ‘Please, they will deny everything and accuse you, and nothing will be done but you will go to prison and die there.’ Maud was still staring up the hallway towards the receiving rooms of the Countess’s home. ‘For God’s sake, Maud, come away.’
‘I should not have let you in the house tonight, Miss Heighton. I hoped you would be sensible.’ Madame de Civray turned on her heel and crossed the hallway, the train of her gown perfectly pooling and slippering behind her on the polished parquet.
‘Maud – please, sweetie – come away,’ Yvette said, her voice sounding almost tearful. It was not that Maud was pulling against her, only she could sense the power of her anger ready to burst forward and felt, if it did, she would not be able to restrain her and Maud would be lost.
‘His business opportunities,’ Maud hissed. ‘His trip to America. How lucky that I was there to teach his “sister” better English. Yvette, take me away before I start to scream.’ Maud turned back towards the kitchen, and without any more ado let herself be led out of the house, the butler staying two steps behind the women until they were safe in the night and the door was locked and bolted behind them.
When dinner was over and the guests were being ushered back into the drawing room, the Countess claimed Tanya’s arm. ‘Sweetness, I have a new acquisition to show you, do let me steal you away.’ She ushered her into the morning room where they had met M. Beauclerc. There was a man in a grey suit sitting on the sofa, a round hat in his hands. As the ladies entered he got to his feet, but the Countess waved him back.
‘Honey, this is Mr Carter of the Pinkerton Agency. We had a very interesting chat with a new friend of Yvette’s this evening and the law is a no-go, I’m afraid.’
‘She found him? Oh, she is a wonder! But you know Maud is innocent?’
‘Oh, as the day is long, dear. But this fellow Henri refuses to say anything to the police.’
‘And did you send people to Rue de Seine? Did you find the stones?’
The Countess smiled. ‘It was worth a try, but no, they were not there.’ She turned towards Carter. ‘Your people left no sign the place had been searched?’
‘None, ma’am.’
Tanya was confused. They had not found the diamonds and this Henri would not talk to the police – and yet the Countess looked perfectly content.
‘We have a chance to play the long game,’ the Countess continued. ‘It seems Morel is going to deliver himself into our hands.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Well then, shush kitten, and we shall explain. Mr Carter? You OK if he goes in English?’ Tanya nodded.
‘There are limits to what we can do in Europe, ma’am,’ Carter said. ‘Taking a known criminal like Henri off the street and getting him to talk – well, that’s one thing, but it wouldn’t do for us to give the same treatment to a fellow like Morel. He hasn’t pulled any scams we can pin on him in Paris and he’s spent freely enough around town to make some friends. Even this Miss Priddy woman . . .’
‘Prideux,’ Tanya said.
‘Prideux,’ he gave a respectful nod. ‘From what I hear, her son the solicitor said there was no use chasing the money, and we’ve asked around about the accident. No one saw anything suspicious, and we can’t find anyone who saw her with Morel that night. No surprise there – he’s not dumb, but I’m just saying he can’t be touched on that.’ He cleared his throat and Tanya waited without speaking. ‘Now he plans to get a boat over to New York at the end of the month. There our life will be a lot easier. We can reverse-scam him. We’ve the people for it, the contacts, and we can take him for every penny he’s got. Perhaps if we’re lucky we’ll even get the big stone back. Take it as security on some deal.’ Tanya noticed he had a light baritone, the same camel colour as his overcoat. ‘There’s no way to stop him selling a few stones in Rheims, but we’ll get back what’s owed to the Countess in the end.’
‘That is all?’ Tanya said.
The Countess laughed. ‘Honey, it’s perfect! The fooler fixed. We’ll make him good and uncomfortable, and I’ll get my money back. Shame about the grand stone, but if Henri is as good as they say he is, and we con Morel out of it in New York, then perhaps I can make something pretty out of it.’
Tanya shook her head. ‘And that is all?’
Mr Carter frowned as if she was making a joke he couldn’t quite understand. ‘The money will be recovered and he’ll be sorry he took the stones. That’s what we want. Sure, if we took him to the law he might get his neck stretched, but that’s not going to happen, like the lady says, and I can’t go round assassinating people, Miss Koltsova. Not in Europe at any rate!’ The Countess made a little cooing noise between amusement and sympathy.
Tanya spoke quietly, though there was a shimmer of distress in her voice. ‘They threw Maud in the river. They told her friends she was a thief then a suicide. I ask you again: is that all?’
Mr Carter stroked his smooth chin. ‘I suppose, given Miss Heighton’s honesty in coming to you, ma’am, and at some risk to herself . . . a reward of some sort perhaps?’
‘Of course. I shall arrange something nice,’ Madame de Civray said in her usual bright voice. Tanya was disgusted, but the Countess was not even looking at her. ‘Oh, and while we are tidying things up . . .’ She rang the bell and her butler appeared in the doorway. ‘Tell her to come in now, Arthur.’
A maid, certainly less than twenty with thick ank
les and apple cheeks, was ushered into the room. She looked very frightened. ‘You wished to see me, Madame?’
‘I did, dear. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave my service at once. You will go tonight, and I will not be giving you a recommendation to future employers.’ From her tone of voice you’d have guessed she was sharing plans for some surprise party for her children.
The girl went white and her eyes became watery. ‘But, Madame . . . ? If I have not pleased you I will work harder. Please, Madame. My mother, my little brother all rely on my wages here. If you send me away without a reference, what shall I do?’
‘You should have thought of that before you entertained gentlemen callers here, shouldn’t you?’ The girl covered her mouth with her hand and the tears began to run down her face. ‘You have my sympathy, honey, but what would it look like if I were to just let you go with a thank you and a recommendation? I would be inviting riot into my home. Mr Carter, would you be so kind as to watch her pack and check her luggage in case she takes any souvenirs?’
Mr Carter stood up and placed his hand on the girl’s shoulder. She looked up at him, astonished and afraid.
‘Come on, dear,’ he said, and steered her out of the room. The girl herself seemed too stunned at the sudden collapse of her world to speak.
The Countess stood and gave herself a little shake. ‘There, that is done. Oh, I shall enjoy hearing all about Morel’s plans for New York.’
‘She let Morel into your house?’ Tanya said.
The Countess smoothed her gloves up her arm. ‘Yes, honey. I was wondering, you see, taking Maud in like that . . . all the preparation. They knew exactly what they wanted and where it was. The cook wormed the truth out of Odette. That she had been walking out with a gentleman and had brought him here. Not that any of them know about the tiara being plucked, of course.’ She took Tanya’s arm. ‘If they ask you, honey, you can say I was showing you that little Morisot in the corner.’
Tanya pulled away. ‘Perhaps you can tell them I am still lost in admiration for a few moments more.’
The Countess shrugged. ‘If you wish, dear.’ She left the room and the butler slipped in through the door to wait with Tanya. His eyes were fixed straight ahead and his hands clasped behind his back.
‘Arthur, are there writing materials I may use in this desk?’
‘Yes, miss.’
She opened the drawer and found a plain sheet and envelope and a slim fountain pen. Hoping she would ruin the nib forever, she wrote, To whomsoever it may concern, I give this gift to . . . ‘What is that girl’s name, Arthur?’
‘Odette, miss. Odette Suchet.’
. . . Odette Suchet, to do with as she will. She unfastened a bracelet at her wrist, fumbling a little with her evening gloves and her indignation, then added to the page, It is a bracelet of diamonds and sapphires. She signed the note and added her Paris address below, then put note and bracelet into an envelope and handed it to Arthur.
‘See that this reaches her, please, Arthur, and that Mr Carter does not take it back. Have I made myself clear?’
He tucked it into the inside pocket of his coat and bowed to her. ‘Perfectly, Miss Koltsova.’
Maud hardly heard Yvette wishing her good night. Every word that Henri had said about Morel burned in her, made her drunk. How pleased he must have been with himself, ready to wander out of town whenever they liked and start their new life in America, stepping over her corpse to do it without a thought. If they thought of her now it was as a nothing, carried away by the river with the rest of the rubbish. They were there now, untouchable in the lamplight, scraping their knives on the Countess’s plates and drinking her wine while Maud remained here, neither dead nor alive.
She undressed and slid shivering under the sheets and again dreamed of her drowning. She must have cried out in her sleep because when she woke suddenly, she found one of Suzanne’s waifs standing in her doorway. He was a good-looking young man in his twenties, though the flesh on his face looked rather loose and pale, his eyes yellowish. She started.
‘Don’t be afraid! I heard you shout and I wanted to see you were not needing help. I am Amedeo.’ He put out his hand and smiled. His Italian accent was heavy, curling his words and throwing them at odd angles into the air.
‘I recognise your voice. You’re the Dante scholar?’ She sat up in bed and took his hand. It did not seem shocking now, this man wandering into her bedroom in the middle of the night and she found she was not frightened.
‘I am!’ He stared at her thoughtfully. ‘You look ill.’
‘So do you.’
‘Ha! Perhaps! But I am not really drunk yet. I came looking for Suzanne. When I find her she will give me money to get drunk and I will be well again. You need nothing?’
Maud shook her head and he shrugged and began to saunter back towards the door.
‘Amedeo?’
‘Yes, young lady?’
‘What does Dante say of revenge?’
He turned back. ‘That it is a sin. A sin of anger, and those who commit it are surrounded by a rank fog, forever tearing each other apart or gnawing at their own limbs. They are trapped in the marsh.’ He sighed. ‘I shall not waste the poetry on you if you do not speak Italian. I shall tell you instead what my mother told me when I came home from school covered in bruises from the bullies there.’
‘What did she say?’
‘To forget a wrong is the best revenge. But she was not right. Some wrong you must get a hot blade into it, take out the poison matter even if it costs you a little flesh. She said I must trust in God – but why should I trust Him to punish my enemies? He let them hurt me in the first place. Good night, young lady.’
CHAPTER 12
20 January 1910
Maud was woken by Tanya, still upset and carrying a basket of pastries. The young women ate them sitting on the bed while Sasha made coffee on the stove, Tanya biting down angrily on each one and refusing to talk until Maud said she could eat nothing else. Only then did they exchange their stories of the previous evening. When Maud had heard Tanya spit out the scheme the Countess and the Pinkerton man had dreamed up, she rested her chin on her knees.
‘Yvette thought I was going to strike Madame de Civray last night,’ she said.
‘I wish you had,’ Tanya replied. ‘It would make me happy. A reward, she says! Like a bone for a dog.’
‘The butler would have broken my arm.’ Maud put her hand out in front of her and it did not shake. ‘You have to go to Lafond’s, Tanya. I shall take a trip to Printemps this morning. I need to buy something with a veil.’ She saw the question in the tilt of Tanya’s chin. ‘I don’t want anyone from the Académie to see me and ask questions.’
Tanya wiped the flakes of pastry slowly from her dress. ‘You are not going home then, Maud? The Countess is a selfish monster, but if there is nothing to be done here . . . I would happily pay your fare if that would be of help.’
‘Are you going to tell me to go home and forget it ever happened as well, Tanya?’
‘What else can be done?’ Maud said nothing. ‘It makes me afraid for you, Maud.’
‘Why?’
‘You are too calm. Too quiet. I feel as if you have made some decision and you are not telling me what it is. Oh Maud, it was such a brief flowering you had. Those few weeks when you were with the Morels, you bloomed. You were easy to be with, less serious, and now there is this . . . I wish to God I had never taken you to Miss Harris.’
‘Don’t you think in a way it is funny, Tanya? I spent the happiest weeks of my life with people who intended to murder me from the start. I think that’s funny.’
‘No, it’s not,’ Tanya whispered fiercely. ‘It’s tragic. And don’t tell me those are different sides of the same coin. I shall shriek here and now if you do.’
Maud shrugged. ‘I thought that talking to the Countess, letting her know I was innocent would make me feel easier, but it hasn’t. They are still out there in the world, and the Countess’s answer,
the plan of her little men in long coats – it’s not enough for me. Morel has to suffer and he has to know why.’
Tanya took her hands between her own. ‘You have a life. You have talent. Of course it is wrong, it is unjust, but you know life is not fair. Leave them to God.’
‘No. I told you – it’s not enough. You know that. And I don’t have a life, Tanya. I’m still drowned in the river somehow and I need to get out.’ She spoke softly and simply as if she were reciting her plans for the day – a walk in the park, a little sketching, revenge.
‘And will this . . . punishment – will it help you?’
‘I don’t know. It cannot make me worse.’
Tanya stood up quickly and a small leather notebook fell from her pocket onto the bed. Maud picked it up ready to hand it to her, but something in Tanya’s expression made her curious and she opened the pages. Tanya protested, but seeing it was already too late turned away to pick up her hat from the armchair. Maud looked through the pages and saw neat lists of figures of groceries and rents, the prices of meals in the cheaper restaurants. ‘Tanya?’
‘Do you remember what Valadon said, that I will never be an artist because I like things to be pretty?’
Maud handed the notebook back to her. ‘I do.’
‘Well, it’s true. But I think wanting things to be pretty might make me some money. Portraits. Ones of wives and children in comfortable homes that might pay five hundred francs a time. I have been about it half the night and it seems to me that five hundred francs can buy a great deal.’ She looked both proud and a little ashamed, and frightened too that Maud would laugh at her. ‘I know that it is a lot for a portrait, but I think men would rather have me in their home, painting their families, than most other artists.’ She looked at the neat lists of figures again, then touched the jewelled pin at her throat. ‘Am I being stupid?’
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